


A Love That Waits

by GlowingMechanicalHeart



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Changing POV, Edwardian Period, Established Relationship, F/M, Light Angst, Love Letters, MIA Sandor, Memory Loss, More like Post-Edwardian Period, Sandor being romantic in letters, Soldier Sandor, Waiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-06
Updated: 2020-05-06
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:47:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24036874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GlowingMechanicalHeart/pseuds/GlowingMechanicalHeart
Summary: Dear Lady Stark,I am afraid to inform you, that Sandor Clegane went missing on the night of the Blackwater Bay Battle. We are unsure as to whether he deserted or he is, in fact, dead. We are still looking for him, should we receive any news, you shall be informed immediately.Our sincere apologies,Varys.
Relationships: Arya Stark & Sansa Stark, Sandor Clegane/Sansa Stark
Comments: 12
Kudos: 63





	A Love That Waits

**Author's Note:**

> Ah, so this fic. Well, it was partially inspired by a BigHound-Littlebird prompt. It sort of takes place on a modern era based post-edwardian. I also made the choice for Sandor to be softer, because this fic takes place after the initial get-to-know-you stage.

The war had exploded in all of Westeros. Almost at the moment of King Robert Baratheon’s death. His brothers were fighting his children for the Throne. Stannis making the bold claim that the children Cersei had birthed were the product of incest.

Only the Vale and Dorne were staying neutral, the Riverlands and the North had also been dragged into the war. Sandor Clegane, born and with holdings in the Westerlands had been summoned by Tywin Lannister for war. A war that Sandor was quite reluctant to fight. While on a visit North with King Robert, he had met Sansa Stark, Eddard Stark’s daughter and they both had fallen in love with each other.

And now war was threatening to split them apart.

“Swear it to me, Sandor,” Sansa held onto Sandor’s hands, unwilling to let go just yet. Tears blurring her vision. “Swear it that you will come back, no matter what. No matter how long it takes you, you will come back to me.”

Sandor nodded, a solemn look on his face. “I swear it Little bird, I will come back to you.” He said and then lifted their joint hands to kiss Sansa’s. “No matter what happens, I will come back to you. But you must promise me, that if you do receive notice of my death, you will live. You musn’t close yourself to life and love. Swear it to me.”

Sansa was quite reluctant to make the vow, but Sandor’s intense stare was hard to maintain and hard to avoid. She knew that Sandor didn’t say it to be cruel, but because he loved her so much that he wanted her to live and not give up on life. “I swear, but only if I know for sure that you are dead.” She said, rising her chin in a defiant way. “For I will have no other than you.”

“And I will have no other than you,” Sandor said, quietly and with all the love that he felt. “But I must go now, unwilling as I am.”

It was only then that Sansa allowed herself to let tears fall. “Come back,” she said as her voice cracked. She quickly put her hand on her dress pocket, pulling one thing she had for Sandor. “Come home to me.” She said as she placed her gift for him on his hand.

Sandor looked down at his hands, and found a small locket, he opened it and found himself at loss for words. Inside, there was a tiny painting of Sansa and a small lock of her hair. “I will come back, Little bird,” his own voice shook. “I will come home to you.”

Sansa threw herself at his arms and Sandor enveloped her in his. They held onto each other, until Sansa pulled back a bit, tears running down her cheeks. Sandor did not want to go, but duty called and it would be tantamount to treason not to report himself for the army. He gently wiped Sansa’s tears away, holding her face with surprising tenderness. Then, he bent down and captured Sansa’s lips in a fierce and passionate kiss. One that Sansa returned quite eagerly.

The moment was only broken by the whistle of the train. Sandor pulled away, reluctantly and began to walk backwards. “I’ll come back, I swear it to you, Little bird.”

“I’ll be waiting,” Sansa tried to smile through her tears. “So come home, soon.”

Sandor took one last look at Sansa, then he closed his eyes, turned and climbed onto the train. Swearing to himself that he would do everything humanly possible to come home to his Sansa. He didn’t know how long that would be.

***

The first months of separation, Sansa bore them with grace. She understood that no letters would come, at least, not yet. It was too soon and she knew that Sandor would be on the front lines, so she simply dedicated herself to care for her home and those in it.

Her father had been killed by Joffrey Baratheon and her brother had gone to help their grandfather. Hoster Tully was ill, but there were men destroying the Riverlands, so Robb and many men of the North had gone to fight for Stannis on the promise of justice. And she could only hope that Robb would return safely. Her mother had gone south to visit her father as he was ill, Arya remained with her and her sister had been most displeased. Sansa knew that her sister would’ve rather go and fight than wait, but she had not been able to sneak around this time. Bran and Rickon were only children still.

So Sansa did her best to distract her. As she could use the distraction herself, because she didn’t want to think of the horrid possibility of Sandor fighting her brother.

***

The first letter arrived six months after Sandor had gone. Sansa had rushed to her room to read it.

_Little bird,_

_To say that everything’s terrible would be an understatement. Tywin Lannister is furious, I am sure that he would kill Stannis Baratheon himself if he could. King’s Landing is standing, no small feat thanks to the efforts of the imp._

_We have received news that Renly has declared himself King, which bodes terrible for the Tywin and his family, not to mention, me and the rest of the men, because we might have to divide the army now._

_I think of you daily and I can only hope all of this ends quickly, so I may go home to you and see you again._

_All my devotion,_   
_Sandor._

Sansa had done her best not to cry. She quickly penned down a letter for him, wishing him the best and hoping for his safe return. And that’s how the letters started. Sometimes they would be long ones, where Sandor could lay bare any trouble that may be worrying him without any shame. Others were simple and short, just letting her know that he was thinking of her and that he both loved her and missed her.

_Little bird,  
_ _I love you._  
 _Sandor._

_Little bird,  
_ _I grow weary of war. Of pain, fear and uncertainty. I wish to go home to you. I miss you.  
_ _Sandor._

_Little bird,  
_ _It makes me sleep at ease to know that you are home safe. Please think of me, for you are the only thing I think of in my desperate moments.  
_ _Sandor._

_Little bird,_   
_You are my world._   
_Sandor._

_Little bird,  
_ _To say that I feel lost without you, is simple. I feel like I’m missing a large part of me as you are so far away from me. I wish to hold you in my arms once more, wait for me. I’ll come home to you soon.  
_ _Sandor._

The letters lasted for nearly as long as the war did. And the war had been going on for nearly two years, until one day, the letter stopped. Sansa did her best not to think about why that could be, she simply reassured herself that Sandor was busy fighting.

But Sansa received a blow soon after, her brother and a large part of the army he led was dead. A deep betrayal from one of the Riverlander Lords, brought them to their end. Sansa had broken down after telling her siblings. Arya had screamed and shouted, denying anything and calling her a liar. Sansa didn’t mind, she understood why Arya was reacting in such manner. Bran and Rickon wept and Rickon took it upon himself to climb onto her bed and sleep with her.

Another blow came on the news that their mother had also been with Robb at the time.

And then, the letter from Varys arrived.

_Dear Lady Stark,_

_I am afraid to inform you, that Sandor Clegane went missing on the night of the Blackwater Bay Battle. We are unsure as to whether he deserted or he is, in fact, dead. We are still looking for him, should we receive any news, you shall be informed immediately._

_Our sincere apologies,  
_ _Varys._

Sansa fell down to her knees and wept. Wept until she was only dry heaving, until she could cry no longer. She cursed and raged at the Gods, but knew they wouldn’t answer to her screams.

***

The first year, Sansa felt like she was in a fog. Nothing seemed real, everything was strange. The sun shone too brightly, the air too fresh, the colors too vibrant, the winter – for the first time ever – was too cold, too harsh. The North – her home – felt too desolate. She didn’t know what to do with herself.

Nothing made sense. And Sansa hated the pity looks that were tossed at her. ‘Poor girl, a widow without a wedding,’ they spoke in hushed tones, but she heard them anyways. She resisted the urge to scream. Sandor was alive, somehow, somewhere she knew that he was out there and she would wait until he came home. After all, he promised, and Sandor Clegane had always been a man of his word.

A year turned into two, turned into three and then into four. The war ended with Stannis on the throne, the families who had suffered through the war, were promised aid. Sansa and her family were swore justice for the war crimes committed against her father and Robb. Sansa had listened and done her best to do the best for the North and her people.

At some point, Sansa’s friends began to do their best to try and get her to see other men. Gently pushing her into the balls she loved so much, she went, because she had promised Sandor that she would live, but all attempts at matchmaking were rejected.

Sandor was alive, she knew and he’ll come home.

***

So, Sansa kept on living. She kept on running Winterfell for her brother, Bran was still a boy and Rickon was younger still. Fortunately, she had Arya with her. But Arya was angry all the time, not that she blamed her, the loss of their father, mother and brother had hit her hard. It had hit her hard too.

“I have to say,” Arya said one evening after their meal. “You’re doing well.”

Sansa looked up from her embroidery, “If you’re referring to all our losses, yes. I suppose we are, aren’t we? But what choice do we have?”

“I meant,” The look that Arya gave her, made Sansa wary. “On your engagement.”

“Oh,” that is all that Sansa could say. She kept embroidering, but she realized her hands were not as steady as before, she settled her work down and placed her hands on her lap. “He’ll come back, he swore.”

Arya didn’t say anything for a while. “I just… well, I don’t even know what to say.”

Sansa smiled, her sister and her had had a bumpy relationship. But since the war, since all of their losses, they had clung into each other. “I know you’re worried, but I promise you Arya, I’m fine. He’ll be back and you two can go back to fighting when he returns.”

“If he’s dead,” Arya said fiercely. “I will find a way to bring him back alive, just so I can kill him for upsetting you.”

Sansa laughed, it was the first, honest laugh she had had in a while. “Oh Arya!” She stood and walked towards her sister, hugging her and feeling her heart soar when Arya hugged her back. “I know you would. I’m sure Sandor knows that, and for that reason alone he will come back.”

“He better,” Arya’s voice was muffled against her chest.

***

At some point, Sansa decided to write letters for Sandor, a way to let him know that she was thinking of him. Letters that he could read when he came home.

_Sandor,_   
_Arya is being very patient with me, it's very sweet. She pushes me to go forward, but leaves me alone when it comes to other men. Others insist that I should move on, but I can't. You promised to come home and I know you will. I miss you terribly.  
_ _With love,_   
_Sansa._

_Sandor,_   
_Bran is courting Meera Reed, she's quite lovely and I think you should like her. Come home soon._   
_Sansa._

_Sandor,  
_ _I have some suitors, but I find myself comparing each and every single one of them to you. And I find them lacking. You ruined me for other men._   
_I love you,_   
_Sansa._

***

Sansa made the best she could to thrive. Even when it was the hardest, her sister had helped tremendously. Arya had done her best to push her forward, but she managed to do so in a way she respected her limits. Arya never mentioned marrying someone else.

Somewhere down the line, she realized that the thought of Sandor didn’t made her weepy. Instead, it filled her with determination and she knew, deep in her heart that Sandor would be home eventually.

It was the six year after the war started, two after it ended, when Sansa found herself visiting the newborn baby of one her friends. She stayed with Jeyne for two weeks and when she returned, she found that a man had arrived and insisted on speaking with her. Sansa knew better to just agree meeting anyone. Specially men.

“He says that wishes to speak with ‘Little bird’,” Winterfell’s butler told her and Sansa froze.

“Are – are you sure?” Sansa’s voice was more like a gasp. “That the man said ‘Little bird’?”

“Aye, Lady Stark.”

“How is he? Describe him to me.”

“He is very tall my Lady, missing an arm and scars on the left side of his face. Lady Arya asked for him to be shown towards Lord Stark’s solar.”

“Thank you. Please send my things to my room.” Sansa said and all but run to find her sister. And find her sister she did, in their father’s old office, sitting with a very tall man. A man who turned when he heard the door open, the moment he did, Sansa felt her knees going weak.

It was Sandor.

“...And there she is, finally back home.” Arya spoke, there was a grin in her face. “Sister, I believe you know this man?”

“Sandor!” Sansa cried out and rushed forward, all but throwing herself at him. She didn’t even give him the chance to stand. She all but climbed onto his lap, uncaring of any impropriety and wrapped her arms around his middle, feeling only one arm around herself. “You’re here.”

“Aye, Little bird,” Sandor rasped. “Lame and useless, but I am here. Should you still want me.”

Sansa backed away from Sandor. Her eyes were blurry, but she could still see that his facial scars seemed redder, as if he had once more injured himself and he was missing his left arm. “Arya…”

“Yes, I’ll leave.” Arya didn’t say more, simply walked out and left them alone.

“Oh Sandor,” Sansa whispered, tears clouding her vision. “How could you think that I would not want you? I have waited, six years and during this time, no other man has taken your place. I still want you, lame and hurt, you’re the man I love.”

“Little bird,” Sandor choked out, reached with his right hand and embraced her as best he could.

Sansa climbed on his lap, tucking her head under his chin. Tears came unbidden, all the years of hoping and now, here Sandor was. “You’re home,” she managed to get out.

“And I will stay, forever.”

They remained together, in an embrace, unwilling to let go. They cried, they didn’t speak, just let out their tears while they held one another.

It wasn’t until much later, when Arya and a servant came with two trays of food that they parted. But Arya didn’t stay. Simply placed the food on their father’s old desk and walked out without saying anything, leaving them alone once more.

Sansa stood, walked toward the cabinet where the alcohol was kept. “Would you like some whiskey?”

Sandor shook his head, “I don’t drink anymore, Little bird.”

“For true?” Sansa’s eyes widened at Sandor’s statement. Drinking was one of the few things she disliked of him, the way he would drink as if he were dying.

“For true,” Sandor nodded, then inspected the trays. “I stopped when I was in the hospital.”

“Oh,” Sansa didn’t know how to feel, she knew that she should be relieved that he was in the hospital and he had gotten help, but… the lack of letters hurt.

“Aye. Perhaps I should tell you my story?”

“No! I – I mean, only if you’re ready,” Sansa rushed to his side and grabbed his arm. “Do not push yourself if you’re not ready.”

“Little bird, ever so thoughtful,” Sandor gave her a rueful smile. “But I really should tell you.”

Sansa didn’t push him, instead just watched as Sandor picked a sandwich and began to eat, serving himself a cup of tea. She herself opted for a scone and tea.

“I ran away,” Sandor started, looking down. “It was the night of Stannis first attempt to take King’s Landing. The imp, bloody bastard that he is, saw fit to toss wildfire into the waters and lit it. Everything smelt of burned flesh and others. I couldn’t stand it. You know why,” he said and pointed at his face. “So I ran, like a coward, I deserted the Lannister army.”

“Oh Sandor.”

“As I was running away, I came across some men. Men your father had sent to apprehend my brother,” Sandor’s face twisted into a snarl. “Bastards thought to make me responsible for his crimes. I had to defend myself, but I ended badly. They burnt my left arm.”

Sansa cried out in distress, tears began to fall and she found that she couldn’t speak.

“I was in pain, terrible pain. I don’t know how it happened, all I know is that I fell and hit my head. I only remember waking in a hospital at the care of a man who went by ‘Elder Brother’. He healed me, they… had to remove my arm. I didn’t even know who I was.”

Sansa wept harder, but she left her seat and went to comfort Sandor. Understanding what he was getting at.

“I had lost my memory. It took years to even remember the smallest things, but when I remembered who I was and you… I knew I had to come home. Elder Brother spoke on my behalf with Stannis, I sold my lands in the Westerlands and I made my way back to you. And I’m here to stay, forever, if you still want me, that is.”

Sansa climbed onto his lap and once more wrapped her arms around his middle, tucking her head under his chin. “I will always want you. Welcome home Sandor, welcome home.”

Sandor’s arm drew her closer. “It’s good to be home, Little bird.”

***

Sansa looked at herself in the mirror and smiled. She would be wedded today, her dress was new, a soft shade of blue with silver and darker blue embroidery. Her smile only dimmed a bit at the thought of her parents and Robb missing her wedding, but she knew they would be happy for her. They had liked and approved of Sandor after getting to know him.

It would fall onto Rickon to walk her down the aisle, Bran would be hosting the reception and Arya would be acting as maid of honor.

“It’s time Sans,” Arya broke her out of her thoughts. “Come on, you have been waiting for almost seven years.”

Sansa gave her sister a hug. “Thank you.”  
  
Arya returned it. “Welcome.”

***

Sansa and Sandor never took eyes off each other during the ceremony, Sansa wept when she recited her vows, Sandor’s voice broke several times. Sandor beamed when Sansa slid the wedding band on his right hand.

Sansa Stark and Sandor Clegane were married on a chilly autumn day, but even the weather couldn’t compete with the warmth and love that radiated from the newlyweds.

They had waited and now, they were finally together.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you guys enjoy, thank you for reading. Feel free to drop a comment if you wish!


End file.
